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“What do you mean why?”
“I mean do you also have a Sunday job interview or are you going to a car show?”
“Why the fu—”
At my stern glare, he cuts himself off.
“What the heck do you care if I go to a car show?”
I gesture to Mattie. It’s obvious why I’m asking. A chance—and trust me, it doesn’t happen that often—to spend the day with his son and he wants me to babysit?
“Why not take Mattie with you?” I nudge my nephew’s small shoulder. “You like cars, right?”
“Yeah!”
“He’s hell on wheels, you know that.” Aaron shoves his hands into his pockets. I follow his freckled arms up to his screen-printed T-shirt and equally freckled, frowning face. “Two hours, Bare. Gimme a break.”
Mattie peels his attention from the iPad to look up at me with hazel eyes.
“Do you want to hang out with boring Uncle Barrett?” I ask him.
“Yeah!” My chest fills to capacity with love for my nephew. No way can I tell this kid no.
“I’ll be back.” Aaron says. “Be good to your uncle.”
“Bye, Dad!” Mattie’s already found a game on the iPad. It seems whenever he’s around Aaron, he’s around me. I’m like an extension of his dad. I don’t mind. I really don’t.
And anyway, what’s two hours?
Catarina
Cartoon sound effects are coming from the entryway of Barrett’s apartment when the elevator doors slide open. I arrived uninvited, but the security guy downstairs made a quick phone call before unlocking the top floor and sending me up.
If Barrett minded me stopping by unannounced, he didn’t convey it via the front desk. He didn’t even ask why I was here. Which is good since I’m not sure why I’m here.
I wrote my column this morning, finished a load of laundry, took a walk to Starbucks and then ordered two cups. A tall, black dark roast for Barrett and my typical Pike Place with cream. Cups in hand, I call out “knock knock!” from the ajar front door.
The cartoon sounds are interrupted by a child’s voice calling, “Who’s that?!”
I stop in my tracks when I’m confronted with an adorable little boy. His face screws into a question mark, nose wrinkling. “Who are you?”
“Mattie, that’s not nice.” Barrett, open laptop balanced on one hand, swaggers to the door looking tired. He sounds it, too. “Hey, Kitty Cat.”
“I was in the neighborhood.” I hand over his coffee, and he shuts the door behind me.
“Your name’s Kitty Cat?” Mattie’s laughter is adorable—and I don’t consider myself a kid person. Imagine my surprise when I’m giggling with him.
“My name is Catarina. And you’re Mattie.” I extend a hand and he slaps it. I shake out the sting on my palm, wincing while Barrett watches me with a half-smile.
“Buddy, why don’t you try calling your mom again?”
“’Kay!” Mattie takes the offered cellphone and punches the numbers before putting the phone to his ear. He’s wriggling on the couch, then moves to the chair, his sneakers leaving dirt marks on the white leather. I grimace.
“Not used to tiny humans?” Barrett asks, his gaze going from Mattie to me.
“I’m never around them.”
“She’s not there!” Mattie chucks the iPhone onto the couch where it bounces once and lands on the carpet with a muted thud.
